Confessions
by amberpire
Summary: "Bella, you smell like sweat and fear." ;Bella/Alice;


I'm going to throw up.

I'm standing by the window, wringing the corner of my comforter like I want to squeeze the life out of it. My head is spinning and my heart is all but tearing its way out of my ribcage and my stomach is seriously considering emptying my grilled cheese which would really suck because I would have to clean it up and no one likes the smell of vomit and I still remember when I puked on the bus in seventh grade and everyone called me Barfy Bella for the rest of the year -

_Okay_, I tell myself, pressing the heels of my hands to my temples. _Take a deep breath._

I can't just sit here. I stand and begin to pace, walking the width of my room back and forth, back and forth, wiping my sweating hands on my jeans. I do _not_ handle stress or nerves well at all, obviously. I glance anxiously at the window. Where is she? I need her here. I look away, still pacing, my fingers habitually beginning to tear at my fingernails, intent on ripping them until I have nothing remaining but nubs for fingers.

I run my hands through my hair to distract my picking fingers. Aforementioned hair is a complete and total mess. I usually go out of my way to make myself look good when I know she's coming over, but now I don't even bother because a) I will never look as good as her, ever, and b) she is convinced I am the most beautiful creature on the planet, regardless of what time of day it is or what I'm wearing. Sometimes, I think the poor vampire is a bit delusional.

"Bella, you smell like sweat and fear."

I jump, whirling around with my hands up in a ninja-like pose as if I was actually capable of defending myself or something. Stupid human instincts - I immediately lower them, because the speaker is far from a robber or someone sent to attack me.

It's Alice. My Alice.

Man, that gives me chills every time I think it.

She's standing with her weight on one hip, throwing me a grin as she uses her right hand to close the window, the left plucking a dried, crinkled leaf from her hair. Tossing it out of the remaining gap in the window just before it closes, she then turns toward me. I swear, Alice could make a garbage bag look like it belonged on the runway - today she's decked in some kind of dark purple, dress-like garment with way too tight black leather leggings. Her feet are bare. My eyes focus on her fabulous form beneath those clothes and for a minute, thinking about taking them off distracts me from the anxiety making my stomach turn.

"Bella, honey." She snaps me back to the present, her teasing expression shifting to one of intense concern. My previous emotions of nervousness and fear of puking come rushing back. I can almost feel the color drain from my face. "Are you going to vomit?" She takes a few steps forward until she's close enough to cup my face in her hands, her skin cold and smooth and a lot like marble rubbing against my skin. Her touch brings me a little bit of comfort and I release a sigh of content.

"No," I assure her, though I'm not really sure how much truth is in that claim. Honestly, I'm not sure if I'll be able to contain my digesting food. My stomach isn't so convinced.

"Maybe you shouldn't do this," she whispers now, as if by raising her voice I really will throw up.

"I need to," I tell her, feeling her hands move from my cheeks to my neck to finally rest on my shoulders. "You said you saw this - and nothing bad happened. Charlie didn't kick me out. My life didn't end."

Alice doesn't say anything for a while, simply bites her lip and nods. She still doesn't look any more clam than I feel. I'm still freaking out knowing everything is going to be okay in the end. Alice can see the future of my decided choices. Charlie might be confused, even upset, for a while, but eventually, it will be okay. That's part of the reason I'm doing this, because I need to get the hard part over with and move on with my life, a life where I don't have to hide in my room with Alice, a life where I can introduce her as my girlfriend.

Girlfriend seems like a massive understatement, but it will do.

"You don't have to do it now," she finally speaks up, returning her golden eyes back to me. She squeezes my shoulders. "I think you should wait until your dad is going to take you seriously. You know what his thought process will be. He'll think it's just a phase, that you're just a teenager in high school -"

"Alice." I'm shaking my head, my arms searching for her waist and bringing her close to me. Her arms fold around my neck, thin, bendable blocks of marble that cause a chill to rush down my spine. "I can't wait anymore. If I don't do it now, I never will."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? I could help you make this easier." Her fingers thread into my hair, stroking the thick strands while her lips move against my cheek.

"No." I want to say yes, I want her to hold my hand and walk me through this like a child because that would be easier and Charlie would listen to her much better than he would listen to me. Charlie adores Alice. "I have to do this by myself."

Alice squeezes me again, her arms holding me tightly with impossible strength. "Okay."

Alice understands better than anyone else why I need to do this alone. I can't rely on her for everything. I might never want to be without her, but that didn't mean I become totally dependent on her or lose my spine. I had to do this for me, to stay self reliant. I love her and want to spend the rest of forever in her golden eyes and sing-song laughter, but I am still my own person. I am not just Alice's lover; I am Bella Swan first.

I pull away, even though I have no desire to leave. I want to fold into my bed with Alice and fall asleep to her unnecessary breathing and her soft hum in my ear, but I don't. I can't.

"I'll be back in a little bit." I swallow hard and my stomach ties itself in a huge knot and I put a hand over my mouth, just in case. Alice takes my free hand as I make my way to the door. I step into the hallway, peering down to the descending stairs. I quickly face Alice again, trying to escape the rush of panic and fear that's strangling me by keeping my attention on the nimble, pale young woman before me.

"I love you," I say, and if anything is true, that's it. If there is anything I am absolutely and positively sure of, it's that I'm irrevocably in love with Alice Cullen. The vampire smiles at me, arching on her toes to find her lips with mine. The kiss is soft, gentle, a ghost to some of the kisses we have shared before, but undeniably sweet. My blood pumps hard, reaching a mild state of euphoria from the simple gesture. She releases my hand and steps back, smiling at me from the threshold of my room. My head is spinning for a completely different reason now.

"I love you, too, and I'll be right here waiting for you when you get back." She smiles reassuringly. It gives me confidence as long as she's in my vision, but as soon as I turn away my stomach drops to my feet. But Alice loves me, I remind myself, and if that wasn't motivation, then nothing could be.

I stop at the top of the stairs, my hand clenching the banister. "Dad?" I croaked, but it wasn't nearly as loud as it needed to be, my voice promptly swallowed by the volume of the TV.

I take a step down, resisting the urge to turn and look back at Alice. If I do, I will go running back to her. I have to do this. Alone. For me.

"Dad?" I call again at the bottom of the stairs. He hears me now, twisting in his recliner to raise his eyebrows at me. He simultaneously reaches for the remote, blindly finding and pressing the mute button.

"Yeah, Bells?"

"I need to talk to you." I swallow thickly before making my way to the couch beside him. I'm not looking at him, finding too much of myself in his face for comfort, but I can feel him watching me with burning curiosity as I sink into the couch. Talk to him? I have never had a conversation of particular importance with him since I asked to move in, and even that was void of much emotion. He just kind of bubbled about for a minute before agreeing.

"Sure," he says, looking back to the TV. It's some sport between two teams I've never heard of doing something that looks pretty dangerous with a ball. Charlie turns the screen off with a blink, adjusting in his recliner to face me. I reluctantly meet his anxious, dark gaze with my own and I can tell what he's thinking - he thinks I'm pregnant. I figured that would be his first assumption. Isn't that far from the truth? "Go ahead, kiddo." He smiles - it's forced, but it's a smile nonetheless. I can practically see the wheels grinding in his head, trying to picture his life with an infant in the house.

"I'm not pregnant," I say quickly, lifting my hands in a surrender-like fashion. "You can stop worrying about that."

Charlie nearly melts in relief. "Okay." He nods, running his hand through thinning dark hair.

"It's something else. Not that important, I don't think, but I felt like I should tell you." I swallow again, permanently shifting my eyes to my twisting hands in my lap. My knuckles are bleached white, probably cutting off the circulation to my poor phalanges. "Dad," I say, sucking in a deep breath and shutting my eyes like I'm about to dive into deep, cold water. I'm going to vomit, puke, throw up, bodily fluids will be all over the walls and the only thing that is going to keep me talking is the fact that Alice is waiting for me in my room - "I'm gay."

The silence that followed was so thick and heavy it was like a curtain had draped between us. I just kept my eyes closed, breathing in deeply through my mouth and letting it go through my nose. I had only said those words maybe twice before, and both of the times had been to Alice. This is different. This is a confession to my father. I don't dare look up, not until he speaks. I simply sit and try and take comfort in the darkness behind my eyelids and the knowledge that Alice is waiting upstairs for me if her vision is somehow wrong and this all ends badly.

Charlie finally breaks the silence by clearing his throat. It sounds incredibly loud right now, like he just dropped a glass plate on the floor and the pieces are now littered around our feet. I open my eyes but remain watching my hands, my fingers beginning to pick again. The feeling of vomiting has subsided a bit, but it's still there, a heavy knot in my throat.

"Well," Charlie says. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see him begin to wipe his hands on his pants and I still can't meet his eyes, I don't want to know what I'll find there. "That's ... that's fine, Bells."

"What?" I look up then, out of instinct, expecting to see disappointment or even disgust in his eyes, because that's what I've always read in books and seen in movies about this kind of thing, but all I find in his expression that is the male version of mine is understanding and slight ... confusion?

"You didn't need to tell me that." He smiles, and it's not forced, it's easy, albeit nervous. "I kind of figured."

"What - but - how?" I'm bewildered. Was everyone aware I was a lesbian before me or what?

"Well, what with Alice always hanging around and the way you two ... you know." He shrugged, looking away from me then to stare at the blank TV. "Is Alice your ... girlfriend? Significant other? Love-"

"Yes," I say quickly. "Don't say lover, Dad, please."

"Okay. I won't. It felt weird."

I sit in silence for a few minutes, rubbing my knees. I don't feel like puking anymore, but I'm still almost overwhelmed by how easy that was. I didn't know what to expect at all. Charlie hasn't said two words about gay people my entire life. I finally push myself to a stand and blink in surprise when Charlie does, too. He smiles at me again, his arms opening.

"I love you, Bells. Whether or not you're a - whether or not you're -"

"Gay, Dad."

"Yeah ... regardless ... you're my daughter, I love you anyway." He steps forward and I close the distance, burying my face in his chest as his arms wrap around me securely. This is weird but strangely comforting. I can't remember the last time we hugged like this, and I feel so relieved, and I'm not going to throw up or have a heart attack and everything is okay, everything is fine. But, holy cow, that was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life.

"Thanks, Dad." I pull away, avoiding his eyes only because I think I might start crying. I think I preferred feeling like I was going to throw up, to be honest. Blubbering like a baby is so much more embarrassing.

"No problem." He sits back down and reaches for the remote, appearing to be much more concerned about the parts of the game he missed than his daughter admitting she was a homosexual. My heart is fluttering like it's full of birds.

I run up the stairs, swing into my room, and all but tackle Alice to the bed. She could have easily resisted me, but sometimes she allows me to overpower her, especially when I'm excited. She laughs in my ear, wrapping her arms tightly around me as we curl on the bed. I'm so happy, so totally relieved that the big deal wasn't such a big deal, that Charlie didn't seem bothered by it at all. I press my face to Alice's neck as her hands find my spine and run along the length of it.

"I'm proud of you," she whispers, smiling against my cheek.

I beam at the claim. "I'm proud of me, too." And I was. I could have easily never said a word about it for the rest of my life. But I didn't. I did what needed to be done. By myself. Without Alice.

Now that that was over, I allowed myself to be consumed with Alice. I didn't need her for everything and there would always be things I would insist on handling by myself, but then there was this; laying in bed with Alice and kissing her. I had done a good job in my opinion - I deserved this.

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**Author's Note: **I do not own Twilight. Hope you guys enjoyed it! Please leave reviews!


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